


The Wonders of Birthdays

by MightyAmphitrite



Series: Wonderverse [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Dinner Party, F/M, Post-War Rebuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 16:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11901210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightyAmphitrite/pseuds/MightyAmphitrite
Summary: Harry's post-war attempts at reconciliation lead him and his wife to attend a very awkward dinner party, where Harry tries to play diplomat and gets in over his head. As usual, Luna is the voice of reason.





	The Wonders of Birthdays

Within moments of Harry's tentative knocking, an awestruck house elf greeted them at the door and ushered them into an elegant foyer. Harry tugged nervously at the sleeves of his robes as he followed the elf down a series of corridors, Luna strolling calmly at his side, observing the various paintings and statuary on display with great interest. "Are you sure you're alright, being…being here?" he asked, even though they'd had this conversation several times over the last week.

She nodded absently, her eyes glued to an ornately carved frame on the wall before them. Luna traced the whorls in the wood with her finger, causing the portrait within to huff indignantly, and said softly, "The upstairs is quite lovely, don't you think?" Unsure how to respond, Harry returned his focus to the elf bobbing ahead of them in the shadowy hallway. When the elf stood beside a dark wooden door and bowed them inside, Harry paused briefly on the threshold before holding his head high, taking Luna's hand, and stepping into the brightly lit room.

Small clusters of people were scattered about, although most stood or sat near the master of the house in his chair by the fireplace. Their quiet murmuring subsided as they noticed the latest arrivals. Gripping Luna's hand rather tightly, Harry nodded to the other guests, silently willing them to return to their conversations. They seemed more than happy to oblige. Harry moved slowly toward the large group near the fireplace, his mind abuzz with possible assurances, proper conversation topics, and many, many questions. He stopped several feet back, unsure of his next move. Luna stood patiently at his side, peering over his shoulder at their host. The man was on the verge of slouching in his chair, not with careless confidence, but with an air of exhaustion, and a faraway look in his eye that Harry recognized with a pang. It was the look of a man who knew many things he'd rather forget. Harry cleared his throat, rather unnecessarily, as half of the room was already regarding the pair in silence. The man by the fire straightened in his chair and turned to face them, a series of emotions flashing across his face too quickly for Harry to catch.

"Happy Birthday!" Harry stopped floundering in search of words and turned to face his wife, who was regarding their host with a warm smile. At the look of confusion on her husband's face, Luna cocked her head and said, "I'm sorry, was it supposed to be a surprise?" As Harry struggled to come up with an eloquent response, the man regarded them curiously. He had yet to rise from his chair.

"No surprise, Mrs. Potter," Draco Malfoy said softly. "I merely hadn't planned on celebrating this year."

"Oh." She clasped her hands together and nodded in his direction. "Well, that is your right." To Harry she whispered, "Does that mean I should return his gift?"

He stared at her a moment, then whispered back, "You got him a _present_?"

"Well, why else would we have come if not to-"

"The tea is ready!" Astoria Malfoy glided into the room and gestured for everyone to follow her into the salon, faltering slightly at the sight of her newest guests and the surprise and confusion on everyone's faces.

"How did you know it was his birthday?" Harry asked Luna as she took his hand and followed the other guests into the next room.

"Well, it's not as if it changes from year to year," Luna said matter-of-factly. "And why else would he invite us to a party?"

His mind returned to its previous buzzing as he realized there was no satisfactory answer to that question. How could he explain their presence at this party to his wife when he could barely justify it to himself? Letters of reconciliation, as Hermione had called them, had gone out weeks ago to anyone in the community who hadn't been their allies before the War but lived peaceably in the aftermath, and might wish to take part in rebuilding their society. After nearly a month, a letter had arrived at Harry's home, inviting the Potters to 'a quiet evening with friends' at the Malfoy estate, which Hermione discovered was a dinner party the Malfoys hosted twice a month. There was no mention of Harry's letter.

"It's a trick," Ron said the second he saw the invitation. "His _friends_ are all former Death Eaters. You're not thinking of going, are you?"

"It is strange, I'll give you that," Harry said as Hermione scoffed. They were sifting through some fresh intelligence from the Auror office and Harry had added the letter to the pile. "Most of the others who don't refuse outright want to meet in a public place wearing lots of disguises."

Ron shook his head as Harry handed him another sheaf of notes. "That's not his style. When he finally gets one over on the Savior of the Wizarding World, he'll want an audience."

"You really think Malfoy's stupid enough to murder me in his own house? The only way anyone could do me in these days _and_ get away with it is by poisoning the food in my cupboards. Not that I spend all my time wondering how I'll be murdered," he added hastily, seeing the shock on Hermione's face. "I haven't given it much thought in ages. Not since Tuesday, at least."

Hermione glared at him. "This is exactly why you should go. The whole point of this reconstruction process is to rebuild trust and relationships, and I know the last thing you want is for people to think you're turning into a paranoid dictator, sniffing for poison in every cup of tea."

"Maybe the dinner will be poisoned," Ron grumbled. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.

"I hear Astoria Malfoy is a wonderful cook," Ginny said, wandering in from the living room and elbowing Ron as she studied the case notes strewn across his kitchen table. He shoved her back good-naturedly. At Harry's curious look, she added, "Every other issue of _Witch Weekly_ has an article about her holiday parties, or her fabulous desserts. See if you can sneak home a slice of cake for us to try."

* * *

Astoria dutifully introduced the pair to her other guests, while shooting perplexed looks at her husband, who kept his full attention on his tea cup. The others regarded them warily; Harry nodded politely and shook the occasional hand that was offered, striving to keep his face neutral. He recognized names like Zabini and Nott, but most of the guests were business partners or former Slytherins he had never met. Luna smiled and waved, complimented the ladies on their glittering hairpins, and continued taking in their sumptuous surroundings.

When Astoria led the group through another set of doors into a formal dining room, Harry moved to sit in a quiet corner and felt a sharp tug on the hem of his robes. He looked down to find an elf gesturing him onward.

"The seats is assigned, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir, the seats is assigned," the elf said urgently. To his utter shock, Harry was led to the head of the table and seated to the left of their host. Astoria sat and chatted with guests at the other end of the table; there was no one to Malfoy's right. Harry held out the seat to his own left for Luna, who was placed next to an older couple who apparently spoke very little English.

_He's shielding us from the other guests,_ Harry realized with a jolt. Before he could spend any time wondering what this meant, a pair of house elves entered from a side door pushing a silver cart. Astoria waved her wand, sending bowls of chilled soup floating across the room to settle gently before each guest. Malfoy ate his soup in silence, and Harry did the same, ignoring the many curious looks sent his way. Laughter drifted over from the far end of the table; the people nearest Harry were talking too quietly for him to hear. He glanced at Luna, who was lazily swirling her spoon through the last of her soup, creating a looping pattern on the bottom of the bowl. Steeling his resolve, he squared his shoulders and turned to his host.

"You're in Transportation now, aren't you?"

Conversation faltered for the briefest moment before the others carried on as if they weren't hanging on his every word. Malfoy set down his spoon and nodded as their soup bowls floated back toward the cart and were replaced with plates of roasted duck. "I am."

Harry groaned inwardly. He was no good at small talk or parties, but with Hermione's voice in his head whispering about a wasted opportunity, he refused to give up. "Lots of work with the Floo Network, then? And Portkeys?"

Malfoy nodded, eyes never leaving his plate as he cut his duck with great care. Astoria chatted with the other guests as she slowly made her way toward their end of the table, shooting them the occasional worried look.

Harry set down his silverware with a bit more force than necessary and turned to face Malfoy fully. "Are you going to make me hunt for clues all evening, or are you going to tell us what we're doing here?"

Finally turning to face Harry, Malfoy wore an all-too-familiar look of disdain. "I must say I'm surprised you came at all," he said, taking a sip of wine from his glass, "since you spend most of your time with Ministry officials and foreign dignitaries these days. Although they don't seem to have taught you any manners."

His nerves frayed to the point of breaking, Harry replied, "You should be more surprised that we'd want any more of your hospitality after our _last_ visit." His words hung in the air like a storm cloud. All eyes turned to their end of the table. So much for a quiet evening with friends.

Hermione was going to kill him.

Harry and Malfoy glared at each other as a pale-faced Astoria struggled to find something helpful to say. He was ready to declare this mission unsalvageable and head for the nearest exit when he felt a small hand cover his, tugging gently. He'd unknowingly been clenching it around a fistful of the Malfoys' elegant tablecloth. He turned to face his wife, who was staring up at a glittering chandelier. "Do you remember your tenth birthday party, by the seashore?" she asked the swinging crystals softly, her expression thoughtful.

Harry frowned. She couldn't have been talking to him. Astoria looked equally perplexed, and they both glanced over at Malfoy, whose eyebrows were raised. He sighed and set down his wine glass. "I should hope so."

"It was sunny and bright, and Daddy said we should get out of the house and go somewhere beautiful, because it hurt too much to stay home and remember," she continued. The Malfoys looked uncomfortable; they must have understood the timing of this party just as Harry did. By now none of the guests were feigning indifference; the whole group had turned their way, listening in silence.

"I climbed up and down the sand dunes after our picnic lunch and heard children playing nearby. There was a great crowd near the water, with games and toys and streamers in the air, and tables covered with presents and sweets. That's where I saw you: you'd open a gift, then run back to your friends and jump in the water. Back and forth. I sat and watched for a long time."

She looked right at Malfoy then, who warily met her gaze. "A house elf even brought me some cake. It was the first time in days I'd forgotten to be sad. A trip to the seashore is a wonderful idea for a summer birthday." She nodded and turned back to her forgotten duck, as if she had merely been commenting on an article on birthdays in a magazine. "People are afraid to get too excited about anything these days. They think it's bad form. But it's important to celebrate even in tough times, to remember what's good in our lives, instead of letting our worst memories get the best of us. That's what Harry says, anyway," she added, turning to her husband with a smile.

As she took another bite of duck and proclaimed it delicious, Harry looked cautiously back at Malfoy, who sighed again, his eyes on his plate. "I suppose you know my parents are in France."

Harry nodded. "I did, yeah."

Malfoy sighed and faced Harry once more. "I'm only 'in transportation,' as you put it, to keep my actions and intentions as public as possible, although I'm still met with suspicion at every turn. It's nothing I can't handle, but…" He grimaced. Harry held very still and kept his face blank. It was probably the first and last time he would ever hear a Malfoy ask for help.

"My parents could use some direction. Mother would love dearly to return to England, but sentiments being what they are…" He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "They've seen your people in France, Potter, telling stories, and I thought you might benefit from having extra…witnesses. To lend your tales credibility."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So you're willing to help _me_ out, then? How thoughtful." Malfoy stiffened in his seat. Thinking fast, Harry added, "Since you're in the mood to do me a favor, why not give me a tour of your office sometime? No one's ever told me how Portkeys work; I've always been rather curious." Malfoy rolled his eyes as Luna looked up in interest; Astoria sent away their plates of duck, sensing that the danger at their end of the table had passed. Although Harry was sure Malfoy would rather be torn apart by dragons than admit it, being seen with him around the Ministry would certainly get people talking and speed up the recovery of his family's wounded image.

Malfoy shrugged carelessly, turning to watch as his wife levitated a marvelously decorated cake onto the table. "I suppose I can fit you into my schedule. I'll have my assistant let you know when I'm free." Sensing the finality in his statement, Harry turned, relieved, to watch Astoria cut the cake as the other guests complimented her creation.

"How lovely!" Luna gushed, gazing in wonder at the piece set before her. "Don't those flowers look real, Harry?"

Astoria blushed prettily as Harry nodded. "It looks delicious. Is there any way you could send us home with an extra piece?" Someone snorted, but Harry was too busy enjoying his own slice to care. Ginny had been right: the cake was fantastic.

* * *

 Over a month later, Harry was still recounting his adventures that evening to his friends and colleagues, who continued to eagerly inquire about Malfoy's demeanor (snide indifference), Luna's gift (sea glass cuff links), the flavor of the cake (rich chocolate with a raspberry filling), and everything in between. On Harry's own birthday at the end of July, all of his friends came over, as per usual, for a light lunch and pleasant conversation, which continued to center around the Potters' exploits at Malfoy Manor. Luna had just set down a fresh pot of tea when they heard a knock at the door.

Ron frowned and glanced around the room. "Who's not here?"

Harry shrugged as Luna made her way over to the door. His shock at finding the Malfoys on his doorstep was nothing compared to his friends': The Weasley twins had their wands drawn before he could blink. Ron choked on his tea; several people gasped aloud. Luna gestured them inside, taking a small plate of tea cakes out of Astoria's hands. "These look wonderful, Mrs. Malfoy! How thoughtful. Do come in! You may leave your shoes by the door," she added, gesturing vaguely as she headed back to the table with the cakes.

The Malfoys looked mildly affronted, but silently complied, removing their shoes and placing them gently in the foyer. Ginny's laughter quickly turned to coughing at a sharp look from Hermione, who was trying not to smile. Little Teddy Lupin wandered over to the door and began building a pyramid out of shoes, placing Astoria's fancy heels on top.

As Neville nervously vacated his chair so Astoria could sit down, Luna whispered, "I asked them to come. I hope it's alright; he invited us to _his_ birthday, after all."

Harry thought for a moment, opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded. "It's fine, Love." He smiled at his wife and turned to Hermione, who seemed to be taking things in stride, and Ron, who looked as though he might faint at any moment. Ron glanced suspiciously at Malfoy, who was stiffly explaining that they couldn't stay long, then turned back to Harry, a look of horror dawning on his face. He grabbed Harry by the arm and said in a terrified whisper, " _Now he knows where you live!_ "

Harry patted his hand. "We'll strengthen the wards after they leave," Harry whispered back, then stood to properly greet their guests.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus a bizarre new tradition is born : )
> 
> This takes place just a few years after the Battle of Hogwarts. All of the main pairings are married at this stage, although I actually wrote it before Wonders of Weddings; it may not perfectly mesh with JKR's timeline, but it makes enough sense that I'm not losing sleep over it.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading! Stay tuned; next week I'll let you know what really happens on September first...


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